Greener Pastures
by barbell
Summary: Bonnie leaves FLAG in a temper, and Devon must find her on his own. My first fanfic - please read and review!
1. Default Chapter

In an interview, Patricia McPherson once stated that she loved Westerns, and would love to have a gutsy, Maureen O'Hara type of role in a movie or tv show. I started thinking about it, and devised this as a story that, although not a western - in fact, it is a continuation of the story "KITT vs. KARR", by Richard Okie - does definitely give Bonnie a gutsy, feisty edge to her that seemed lacking in most of the stories. If you love Michael Knight and a lot of action, this probably isn't your story, for it features Devon and Bonnie in unique roles and quite a different relationship, and is more of a character development story than an action/adventure one. Flashbacks and quotations from "KITT vs. KARR" are set off by double spaces.  
  
GREENER PASTURES  
  
Bonnie awoke the day after Michael's showdown with KARR, and everything flowed back into her mind at once. She shuddered. For some reason, she couldn't seem to lose the anger and resentment at the way she had been treated in the past few days. She could still remember the first exchange in the semi that had angered her:  
  
She had wanted to take KITT into the Foundation to install a new laser, to help Michael combat KARR. He had, again, disagreed with her. As she opened KITT's hood, she had loudly insisted, "I can have KITT back from the Foundation by this time tomorrow!" Michael, stubborn as usual, had replied with, "24 hours we don't have to install a laser that won't work!" She had started to argue with that, and he'd gone on, "Now, I'm sorry, Bonnie - no! We tried the laser last time KARR got loose!". She had to agree with that part, but explained, "I've been working on some modifications - I can double his penetration!" To his credit, Devon had, at least at first, seemed to side with Bonnie. Facing Michael, he had explained, "Michael, what choice do we have? I can't risk sending you and KITT out without some kind of an edge!". Michael had come back with, "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I had KITT trace the salt water damage to KARR's Alpha Circuits. If he gets those parts and he repairs them, it's only gonna be a matter of hours before his other systems are up to full strength. So, while we're experimenting with modified lasers here," he said, and she and Devon had looked at one another, as she was becoming more and more frustrated, "he will be making himself fully operational - we cannot let that happen!" Now Bonnie had been watching Devon to see how he would decide. She knew before it happened, but she lived in hope. Michael now played his trump card: "Look, if we ever needed to act as a team, it's right now. You go back to the Foundation, you finish the laser, and you bring it back. As soon as you call, I'll bring KITT in for installation. Until then, I gotta keep the pressure on!". Devon had looked at her, and with one word, crushed her: "Bonnie..." Realizing that Michael had, again, won out over her with Devon's approval, she had stood up and slammed the hood shut. Storming to the van's phone, she'd picked it up to make a call, alerting the police regarding road blocks, etc., even as the two men in front of her discussed it. Devon had ended the discussion by putting his hand on Michael's arm and telling him: "Do what you have to do, but, please...be careful." Michael had murmured, "Right" as he'd started to get into KITT, then Bonnie, filled with resentment and worry for what he was again about to do to KITT, yelled at him, "If anything happens to KITT...!" And all she had gotten for her trouble was for Michael to grin at her, say, "Love you, too!", and blow her a kiss before driving off. This left her furious and speechless as she looked at Devon as if to ask, "Can you believe him?". She wanted to smile at him, and he had made a point concerning her being more worried about the car than she was about him, but her point had been just as valid as his had, yet, again, she'd 'lost'. As he pulled out, Devon had said to her, "We're heading back now, alert the crew." and with that, had gone off into the front of the van, leaving her to stew in her own anger.  
  
After getting ready for the day, she had come downstairs, missing the conversation right before she got to the door. Michael had just told Devon that the attack between KARR and KITT had been very hard on him, and he wanted to fly down to Acapulco for a one week vacation. Devon had agreed, for the physical attack on the semi a few nights before had been quite harrowing for all of them. "Go and enjoy yourself, Michael. In fact, I think I shall invite Bonnie to go down to San Diego with me."  
"What's in San Diego?", Michael had asked.  
"Well, Bonnie and I go at least one time a year. Separate rooms, of course, lest you suspect anything...untoward."  
"Devon," Michael smiled, "I'd never do that with you and Bonnie."  
"It's a nice change of pace. We both love the zoo, we go to the beach, eat out at a few very nice restaurants, and enjoy one another's company. I'm afraid I've been neglecting her lately. Since her father died last year, she's seemed a bit 'lost' to me, and I want to see that she gets enough attention. I...love her as though she were my own daughter."  
Michael grinned. "Yeah, Devon. Anyone can tell how close you two are. I'm glad she has you." He looked at Devon. "I'm glad we both have you." Devon smiled, and touched his arm. This brought a frown to Michael's face as he glanced down and saw the new watch on his wrist.  
"Hey, where's your old watch?" Michael asked him. Devon had had it for years. His grandfather had given it to him as a gift, and he'd always treasured it. It was at this moment that Bonnie happened to walk in the door and was about to come around the corner, past the large blue and white vase that stood in the center of the entrance way against the wall, when she heard Devon say:  
"I'm going to have to get rid of her."  
She froze outside the entranceway. Surely he wasn't talking about her! They were...best friends.  
"Oh, Devon, why?" Michael asked, obviously distressed by the news.  
"Because she just doesn't do the job she used to. Ever since that incident with KARR and we got shoved into the corner, she simply hasn't worked well."  
Tears came to Bonnie's eyes. They had been the only two people there when KARR plowed into the back of the semi, and Devon had shoved her into the back corner to protect her. He had to be talking about her!  
"Have you thought of taking her to an expert...?" Michael suggested.  
Bonnie was surprised that Michael was fighting for her job. It seemed the past few days that he would be delighted to have her gone. Talk about taking her for granted!  
  
He had called her from KITT while she made modifications on a component with a small screwdriver, and had asked immediately for a favor: "Those high tensile reflectors you developed for KITT, are they still around?" She had replied, "Yes, I have them...Aw, no, Michael. You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?" He'd merely said, "Pull 'em out of mothballs, will ya? I can't discuss it right now. I'll see ya when I see ya." And, as she had protested, "But, Michael, I..." he had dismissed her by turning off the screen in mid- sentence.  
  
Back in the present, she heard Devon tell Michael, "It simply isn't worth it, old boy. Cheaper in the long run to replace her." Even as he'd said it, he'd put the watch he had been showing him back into his top drawer. Michael knew he'd spend the money anyway. Sentiment was important to Devon.  
Bonnie, stricken with indignation over being dismissed by a man she adored, by the one person she felt could do no wrong, turned and ran upstairs. There was no way he was going to 'get rid of her'! She'd be the first to leave! She consequently missed Michael's farewell, and Devon's promise to tell her goodbye for him, and Michael's effusive praise for everything she had done to help them, as well as his declaration that he didn't know what they'd do without her. He left with a smile on his face just thinking about her, and somehow, a vague discontent knowing Devon was going to be spending the next week with her and he was not! 


	2. Greener Pastures, Chap2

Meanwhile, Bonnie had thrown a few things into a bag and had left, sneaking downstairs as though she were a criminal to get out without detection. She took Devon's red Mercedes convertible, parked out front, to Bay 4. There, she did some 'modifications' to KITT's sensors, then hopped back into the car and took off. She didn't even wave to the security guard as she shot past his booth in the Mercedes. She was so angry, she wasn't really aware of where she was going until she had gotten to downtown L.A. She looked up and seemed surprised to find herself there. She had been brooding about what had happened that night when KARR blasted into the back of the semi. The fact that Michael had insisted, and Devon had agreed, that they should assemble the laser at the Foundation and then bring it to KITT seemed to rankle her. If he had only listened to her, the entire episode might not have happened. At least, KARR would never had obtained the laser that was rightfully made for KITT! It was their fault, darn it! And Devon was going to fire her because of it!! The more she thought about it, the madder she got, until she was absolutely furious with the both of them. How she wished she could make them suffer some of the anguish she felt right now.  
Seeing a 'no parking' zone, she quickly pulled in and turned off the Mercedes. Leaving the keys on the floor mat, she locked the door and shut it. Now, the car would be towed, Devon would be notified, and he would even get his keys back. She got on a bus and rode several miles to the south side of town. Not wanting to be seen by any merchant or vendor (knowing they were always the first ones Michael would go to for help in identifying any 'customers' that they might have had that he was looking for), she paid a young man on the street to go buy her a hamburger. After eating it, she dumped the paper in a bin, and then picked up her suitcase and started walking. She ended up staring at a "Help Wanted" sign in front of a men's club. A sleazy, dirty club where women performed half dressed. The thought crossed her mind that at least they were appreciated for what they did, regardless of how 'respectable' the work was - or wasn't. In she went, not having a clue what it was like inside. It was depressingly dark and dingy, and smelled of liquor and Pinesol. Rock music blared from a corner juke box, and several scantily clad women were waiting on tables. Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed down the bad feelings she had, ignoring her conscience. One half hour later, the manager of the club, Tom Greene, had hired her as a waitress/dancer. She felt an odd sense of accomplishment, for she was a very reserved, shy girl. Tom had been super impressed by a classy girl like that wanting to even be in his club, called, "Greener Pastures". It was obvious that she was running away from something - or someone- and he would give her all the help he could in keeping that person away.  
In fact, Bonnie had decided she wanted to get as far away from the Foundation as she could. She had thought about it, and it seemed to her that her life had been too perfect. She'd been a straight "A" student, she'd had parents who adored her, and a great job straight out of MIT - where she'd graduated top in her class. Devon and Michael had seemed to dote on her - at least at first - and for the most part, her desires while at FLAG were met almost before she had finished asking for them. Perhaps, she thought, she needed a little break from perfection. She had never been 'bad' in her life, and although she had never had a desire to be, her perverse mood right now envisioned putting Devon and Michael through all sorts of tortures worrying about her. How far could she go before one of them found her? Would they even bother looking? Since Devon planned to fire her anyway, would he simply say, "Good riddance?" and be done with her? She had to know the answer to that, for she knew she would never be happy or be satisfied until she understood just how deep Devon's and Michael's feelings for her were. She needed a closure to that part of her life, if they wanted her gone, in order to move on to the next part of her life, whatever that may be. She truly felt that this was not the career move she would chose for herself, but it would prove to be an interesting experiment. One thing she did know, however, was that the sign outside read "XXX". That alone would keep Devon Miles out!  
Meanwhile, Devon had become concerned when Bonnie didn't show up for work. He'd gone up to her room, knowing she, too, was worn out from worry with the recent case. He'd knocked on the door lightly. If she were still asleep, he didn't want to disturb her. If she were not feeling well, he'd give her the day off, and ask her about San Diego. With any luck, they could be there tomorrow, checking into the Hotel Del Coronado. When he got no answer, he turned and left, smiling to himself that at least she was getting some good rest. He had a cup of tea, and looked through some files. One case interested him, and he did some research. Deciding it was a case that they could handle and that could wait until Michael returned from Mexico to be started, he called and told them that he would have his man call by on them within the next 10 days. They were delighted with that, and he dismissed the other cases as either too pressing to wait, turning some over to the police, or too impossible. So, with the next case waiting in the wings, so to speak, he again went up to Bonnie's room. It was nearly 12 o'clock now, and she should be up. He knocked again, and then again, louder. When it brought no response, he called to her. When he still got no response, he said out loud, "I didn't realize she was this exhausted." One iron-clad rule he'd made was that he would never go into the room of a guest or one of the employees there without a serious concern. At this point, his concern was niggling, not serious.  
At 1:30, he received a phone call that his car was at police impound. That surprised him, because he didn't even know his car was gone. He called security to find out if anyone had driven his car out. He was shocked to hear that Bonnie had, several hours before. He was confused, but then he became worried. He once again headed up the stairs, but this time he was determined that if he got no answer, he would enter anyway. He didn't get an answer, and he did go in. To his surprise, her room was deserted. A quick glance in the bathroom told him that her toothbrush, hairbrush, etc. were gone, implying she had packed to go and had left of her own free will. But, why? What had gotten into the girl that she would just up and leave like that, without a word? It was totally out of character. Where on earth could she have gone? He was now as close to panic as he'd been in years.  
He loved Michael as a son, but Michael's job of itself entailed a good deal of danger. As prepared as he tried to be, he still worried everytime Michael got into a fix. He did have a great deal of confidence in Michael's ability to get out of trouble. Bonnie was different. She was confident, but sweet, and there was an innocence about her that he adored, and protected. He didn't expect her to have to put herself in danger. Not often, anyway. So to realize she could be in trouble frightened him. He simply wasn't prepared for it. His concern was heightened by the fact that Michael had gotten onto an airplane bound for Acapulco not an hour before, and he would not ruin this vacation for him, no matter what happened. Truth be told, though, he certainly could use his help right now.  
The next person in line to seek help from would be KITT. So he called for a car and had them drive him out to Bay 4, where KITT had been kept for a complete refurbishing. "Total tune-up", Bonnie had called it. He got into KITT and sat for a moment, not sure how to approach things. "KITT," he began, "do you by any chance know where Bonnie has gone?"  
"Don't you?" KITT responded.  
"I'm afraid not," Devon answered, with a small laugh, trying to keep it light.  
"No, I haven't even seen her today."  
"Are you sure?" he asked, for he was certain that the technician at the gate had told him that Bonnie had been in earlier.  
"I'm sure, Devon."  
Devon's eyes narrowed. As farfetched as it seemed for a grown woman to behave like this, he knew KITT couldn't lie unless Bonnie had actually programmed him to do so.  
"KITT," Devon said, "I'd like to check your diagnostics. Would that be all right with you?"  
"Certainly," KITT told him. "After all, you did it all the time before Bonnie came along."  
"Ah, you remember those days, eh?"  
"Of course. Unlike people, my memory doesn't fail."  
"Unless it's been programmed to fail, " Devon muttered. He hooked KITT up to the diagnostic scanners, and soon found that he had, indeed, been 'tampered with'. It seemed to him that Bonnie had fixed KITT so that he could not be used to track her down. Her biorhythms and her heart scan had been removed, so that even if they used KITT, he would be unable to detect her. And although that process had taken her less than thirty minutes, he knew that if she had access to her records - and he had no doubt that she did - it would be nearly impossible for Devon to re-enter those records into KITT's memory banks. At least, not any time soon. He gave KITT to Dr. VonVoorman and asked him to get a few other techs together and begin trying to re-enter Bonnie's medical info. He knew he was going to have to go back to the old fashioned leg work he used to use working for MI6. Sighing, he called for a car. 


	3. Greener Pastures, Chap 3

The first place he went was to the location where she had left his car. Glancing around, he saw a bus stop not one half block away. He waited for the bus, then got on and asked the bus driver if he recognized Bonnie from the picture he showed him. The driver assured Devon he'd never seen her, and he certainly would remember her, because "she was a looker".  
"She is, indeed," Devon said with feeling. He got off the bus and sat down to wait for the next one, realizing this was a long shot, but the only shot he had at the moment. He continued to get on and ask the drivers of every bus at that stop if they'd seen her, until the rounds started all over again. No one had seen her. What Devon didn't find out was that the driver who had taken her on his route had become ill and had to be replaced by someone else. If that hadn't happened, the entire affair might have ended right then and there. But it had.  
He also made a check of all of the bookstores and libraries in town, showing her picture. Then, the museums. Still, no one had seen her. He thought of all of the haunts where she might go. They were all a dead end. By 9 p.m., he was exhausted and discouraged. He finally drove home, worried, hungry, depressed, and a trifle cross.  
That night, Tom worked her as a server only. Waiting tables was all right, but the skimpy costume was a total fashion change. On her first break, she sat in front of the mirror of the small dressing room she'd been given and said out loud, "Well, Bonnie, you're about as far from FLAG as you can get." She sighed. This had been an interesting lark, but she was ready to go home now. Only now, she couldn't. She'd come too far to turn back, and she was far too stubborn to give in. On her second shift, she found that being appreciated and being respected were two different things. While Devon and Michael might have been guilty of lack of appreciation, they certainly never treated her with the disrespect she received from the drunks and "perverts" who frequented the place. She actually poured a pitcher of beer over the head of one of the men who had pinched the seat of the black tap pants she wore. Tom saw it and hurried over in time to hear her say, "Just because I bring you beer doesn't mean you have the right to touch me!". Tom concurred, and told the guy that if he apologized to her, he could stay. Otherwise, he wanted him out. The man, shocked, stammered an apology, and then left anyway. Tom looked at Bonnie.  
"Honey, you look bushed. You wanna go home early?"  
Bonnie was all set to nod her head, then realized she had no where to go. She shrugged. "I might as well work here as walk the streets."  
"You mean, you've got nowhere to go?"  
"No," she replied with such conviction that he never doubted her.  
"You got trouble with your old man?" he asked her.  
"Nothing but," she said, not sure who Tom meant by that, but sure whom she meant by it.  
"I'll give you a cot in the back. And there's a lock on the door," he added as she started to protest. "You stay here and work, I'll make sure no one hurts you."  
"And what do you get out of all of this?"  
"It's part of the job. I take care of my girls," he said. For some reason, it rankled her to be thought of as one of his girls, but his kindness was something she needed at the moment. She smiled. "Thank you, Tom. I'd love that."  
"Good," he said, walking her down the hall. He showed her the room. It, too, was dark and dingy, but the little cot was clean, and there was a small bathroom off to the side. She nodded to him. "It's great, Tom. Thanks."  
"You want to quit now? Or go back to work?"  
She grinned at him. "How can I quit now when I just got a bonus?" she asked. She headed back to the bar, and for the rest of the night, she worked harder physically than she had in a long while. At midnight, when the doors closed, she headed back for the room, grateful for a place to lie down.  
Devon, also exhausted, found his bed to be calling him. But sleep evaded him. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of Bonnie, smiling at him. He remembered the way she put her arm through his when he would escort her to dinner or to a play. They enjoyed the symphony together. At least, they had in the past. It seemed to him that somehow, they hadn't been out to eat or to the symphony in a very long time. Too long, in fact. If he ever found her, he would rectify the situation. Just as soon as he finished giving her a good dressing down for frightening everyone.  
Bonnie slept until after 8:00. She had to settle for washing her face in the tiny basin, for she had no shower. And she felt dirty. But at least, after using soap and water, she felt she had at least done what she could. Changing into another outfit she'd brought, she put the dirty clothes into a plastic bag and stuffed them under her cot along with her suitcase. Then she left the safety of the room and took a short stroll outside. It wasn't a good part of town at all, but in the morning it seemed fairly safe to walk there. She came back to the club and went into the back, where Tom was making coffee. They sat and shared a cup of coffee, and he brought out a box of doughnuts he'd bought on his way in to work. As she ate, she talked, and Tom let her. He was obviously smitten with this beautiful, intelligent young woman. She tried to keep it light, and when he again mentioned her trouble "at home", she merely said she was trying to get away from "an impossible situation". He asked her if that meant, was she abused at home. She thought about it for a moment, and answered, "Sorta.". He didn't know what that meant, but it told him enough. Finally, she went into the back and pulled out a book she'd been reading at home, and settled in for a nice, quiet morning.  
Unfortunately, Devon could not enjoy such a time. He notified the police that she was missing, since it had now been 24 hours, and he had the police put out an APB on her. He also called the bus stations and train depots. Never mind the airports, she'd never be so upset that she would intentionally get onto an airplane. She hated flying! Devon pulled all the strings he could find. He had only a cup of tea and a piece of toast all day as he busily manned the phones and tried not to think of how much trouble a young girl could get into alone with no where else to go. Another thing he needed to do, if he found her, was to make sure she got that apartment she had told him about, so she had a place where she could go to be alone if she needed to. By six o'clock that night, he was sitting with his head in his hands at his desk, scared to death for the first time in a very long time.  
By 6:00 p.m. that night, Bonnie had finished her book, grabbed a quick doughnut from the back room, and had gone back to work for the second day. Around 9:00, she began to feel sick and realized that she hadn't had anything to eat all day long except for the 2 doughnuts. She went into the back and asked Tom if she could get something to eat. He told her to go down the street and get herself a lobster dinner. She laughed, thinking he was kidding, but he handed her his card and said, "Really - down the street is a place called 'Devon's Alley'."  
Bonnie blanched. "What? Why is it called that?"  
"Because the guy that owns it has a place in Boston called 'Devon's on the Park'. It's on the Commons next to the park in Boston. Maybe you saw it when you were there."  
Bonnie smiled. "Yeah, I remember, I actually ate there a few times in college. I haven't thought of the place in years."  
"Well, this is his second place, and he knows me, and sometimes, I go in and eat, and he comes down here and gets...free entertainment, if you know what I mean." Bonnie blushed furiously as she knew exactly what he meant. He went on. "Just tell him you work here and that this one's on me, and he'll let you have a dinner. Maybe it's what you need. Maybe it'll help you not be so homesick."  
"I'm not homesick," Bonnie told him.  
"Yeah, I believe that," Tom told her with a smile. She left, going out the front door and to the left. If she'd gone to the right, she'd have noticed that Tom had taken a picture of her and had it put out in front to attract customers. Fortunately for Devon, one of the policemen who patrolled the area was one who had spoken to Devon personally about Bonnie's disappearance. He noticed a new picture up in front of Tom Greene's place, and he stopped. After comparing it to the picture Devon had given him, he called him.  
Devon's head snapped up at the sound of the phone ringing next to him. Picking it up with shaky hands, he said, "Hello? Devon Miles here."  
"Mr. Miles? This is Officer Toomey with the 83rd precinct."  
Devon's heart, for just a moment, stopped beating out of fear of the next sentence he might hear. He had avoided calling the morgues and the hospitals for the same reason, and now kicked himself mentally. If it had been anyone else who had disappeared, that would have been his first recourse.  
"Yes, Officer?" he asked, still holding his breath.  
"I think I may have found your girl, but I'm not sure."  
"Why not?" he queried.  
"Well, it looks like her. But...I don't know if the girl you described would be working at a sleazy men's club..."  
"Bonnie? Never!" he replied instinctively. Then, he realized how hard he'd been looking for her, and decided not to turn away any clue. "Where are you?"  
"The south side, 6th and Concord."  
"I'll be down there within the hour. Thank you very much, Officer Toomey."  
He hung up, grabbed his jacket from off the back of the chair, and hurried out the door as he put it on.  
Bonnie had gone down to the restaurant Tom had told her about, and found that he was right. It did, indeed, look like an authentic Boston lobster house. She couldn't imagine finding one in this neighborhood, and so close to work. She ordered a glass of white wine and one boiled lobster. As she waited for her food, she once again reflected on her reason for being there. It seemed longer than just 3 days ago when Michael had driven KITT into the semi in a near panic, and the subsequent conversation had nailed shut the coffin on her feelings for Devon Miles. Never had she felt so...abandoned by someone who claimed to love her. It wasn't until then that she rationalized that he never cared anything for her. He used her, just as Tom Greene did, to get what he wanted from her. But her personal welfare was never a concern to him.  
  
She had protested when Michael had wanted the reflective shields installed on KITT. He just wasn't ready yet. "But Michael, I doubled the power of the laser KARR took!" she had explained. Heading into the back to get something to drink, for these discussions always left her a little dry, she heard Michael ask Devon, "You got a better idea?" Devon had quietly said, "With a little more time, I'm sure we can come up with something." Michael had declared, "Time's the operative word here. We don't have any!" Devon had firmly told him, "Now listen to reason: KITT is not prepared to do battle with KARR." Bonnie remembered a warm feeling flow through her that Devon was being firm with Michael and standing up for her side of the issue: to protect KITT. They had continued to talk, and she missed some of it, but she'd come back out with the large glass of iced tea in her hand in time to hear Michael's ultimatum: "But I'm tellin' ya, Kitt and I are going out of here in 3 minutes, with or without those reflectors...or your blessing." She had been standing between them, looking from one to the other. At this, she turned her head to stare at Devon, not believing that Michael would just tell Devon what he was going to do with KITT, who really belonged to the Foundation and not to him. And as she stared at Devon, he did the one thing she never expected: he'd merely looked at her and said, "Go to work.". Then he'd turned and gone into the back. She stared unbelievingly at Michael, who seemed a little apologetic, but who had just sort of held out his hand toward KITT, as though telling her that she wasn't working fast enough, and then he had turned and gone into the back with Devon, leaving her alone to do the work. She had not been happy! And the shrugs and waves of her arms and all the other gestures to indicate her displeasure had not been noticed by anyone...except KITT. 


	4. Greener Pastures, Chap 4

Devon pulled up outside the club well within the hour. He was highly motivated to get there. When he stepped out of his car and saw Bonnie's picture on display outside the men's club, he felt his blood boil. He'd never been angry with Bonnie before. It was an odd sensation. He had been frightened and worried when she'd turned up missing. Coupled with the anger he felt to now discover she was fine, he was way past 'upset'. Add the humiliation he felt at having to even enter this establishment to search for her, and his emotion was propelled all the way up to furious. He spoke to the officer, told him thank you, and went inside.  
As Devon adjusted to the darkness inside, his sharp eyes searched the room for any sign of Bonnie. His glance quickly went over many girls, none of whom he looked at for very long, just long enough to realize they weren't the girl he was looking for. Finally, he moved toward the back and found the owner, Tom Greene. The two men looked at each other, each one drawing conclusions about the other.  
"You must be the manager of this place," Devon said, trying to remain calm.  
"You must be looking for somebody," Tom countered.  
"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm looking for the beautiful young lady you have showcased outside your place."  
"Ahh, the beautiful Miss Young," Tom said, baiting him.  
"Her name is Barstow. Bonnie Barstow. And if you know where she is, please tell me. I've been sick with worry."  
"Let's go in the back and talk," Tom said, feeling instinctively he should talk to Devon.  
They went into the back, and Tom offered him a cup of coffee, which he accepted. They sat and talked to one another for quite some time. Devon told Tom about Bonnie's working for him, and how long she'd been there, the confusion over why she left, and their relationship. Then, Tom said the one thing Devon felt compelled to contradict.  
"She told me she'd been abused at home," Tom told him. "I feel I need to protect her from that."  
Devon adjusted his sleeve as he said, "She might be able to claim neglect. She can't, however, claim she was abused. Although once I get her home, I might amend that."  
Tom Greene smiled at him. "You seem to care a great deal for her."  
"I love her more than you can imagine. We've all been frantic looking for her."  
"Do you think, given her present condition, that she might need some time here?"  
"Good heavens, no!" Devon replied as he pulled at his ear. "I think she needs a firm hand and a listening ear."  
Tom Greene laughed out loud at that. "A lot of girls do, at that. I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you, Mr. Miles. Normally, I protect my girls from everyone who comes calling. But Bonnie isn't happy, nor is she content, here. I know she misses you terribly. I...think she's just too stubborn to go home."  
"I'd heartily agree on that score."  
"If you go down the street and go inside a restaurant called, ironically enough, Devon's, I believe you'll find the young lady in question tucking into a lobster dinner."  
Devon stood there, stunned by this news. "Pardon me, did you say a lobster dinner?" he asked, sure that he had misunderstood.  
"That's what I said," he told him.  
Devon worked hard to keep his emotions under control. He put out his hand and said, "Thank you, Mr. Greene. If the Foundation can be of any help to you at any time in the future, please don't hesitate to call on us."  
"I'll keep that in mind. And if you ever decide you don't need Bonnie anymore..."  
"Mr. Greene, that day will never come."  
With that, Devon walked out of the club and began walking toward Devon's. The closer he got to the place, the faster he walked, as if afraid he'd somehow miss her. It was a great relief when he grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the door open with a much greater force than he was aware of.  
He had opened the door so quickly that all heads turned. Bonnie's was among them. In a near panic, she quickly turned back to her lobster and wine. Devon's eyes searched the room and came to rest on the beautiful young brunette. Striding to the table, he stood in front of her. She continued to eat without looking up. She was sure he could hear her heart beating out of apprehension. Finally, he said, "So. Here you are!".  
"What brilliant deduction," she muttered under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear her.  
Devon chose to ignore that. "Do you realize that we have all been frantic looking for you?"  
"Really, you shouldn't have bothered," she told him. "I'm fine."  
"We shouldn't have bothered? It's hardly a bother to be concerned about someone you care for."  
"So what does that have to do with me?" she asked, cracking a claw. She put down the mallet and began extracting meat. Devon stood there, trying hard to control himself.  
"What do you mean by that question?" he finally asked her.  
As if trying to help an idiot understand something, she said very slowly, "Why are you here?"  
"I've come to collect you."  
"You make me feel like a piece of luggage," she complained as the meat dipped into the melted butter and then found its way into her mouth.  
"Hardly. More like a precious package that must be picked up personally," he corrected.  
She flushed a little at his compliment, but he could hardly tell that in the dim light.  
"Oh, well...I'm not going anywhere," she informed him.  
"There you're wrong. You're going home. Now."  
"You go on home. I'm happy here," she said, pushing the plate away from her. "As a matter of fact, I feel like I am home."  
Almost at the end of his rope, he leaned forward and put his hands on the table. "Now you listen to me, Bonnie Cathleen! I realize you have an Irish temper, and for some reason, it has chosen to flare up now. But might I remind you that I also have an Irish temper? And in a clash of wills, believe me, you will come off the loser. Do not anger me further. You won't like the results. Now what do you have to say?"  
Without looking up, she picked up her wine glass. "Your tie's in the butter."  
He glanced down, and the end of his tie was perilously close to being in the cup of drawn butter on her plate. "I am talking to you!" he declared angrily. "Hang my tie!"  
She reached out and tugged on the tip of his tie, saturating the end of it in the oily mess. With a self-satisfied grin, she said, "There. Now you look as though you've really been to Boston!"  
He visibly swallowed his anger, stood up, and strode out of the restaurant. She watched his disappearing back with a sinking despair. How could he not care if she defaced his tie? The man almost had a tie fetish! He obviously didn't care enough about her to even reprimand her for her churlish behavior. If someone had done that to her, she'd have handed them their head! Oddly, she felt a terrible disappointment. As she blinked, trying to blink away the awful burning in her eyes, she had to ask herself, What else could he do? He was merely her boss. If she refused to come back to work, all he could do was get someone else to take her place. It wasn't like he was...personally involved or anything. She looked back down at her glass of wine. Suddenly, a painful lump formed in her throat, and when she swallowed, it only became worse. For some reason, she thought he'd at least insist she come back, if only to fire her. She'd have gladly listened to a lecture if it proved he cared. But she'd been wrong about him all this time. Her father was dead, and now Devon had made it clear that he didn't care anything about her anymore. She felt all hollow and empty inside. Obviously, she didn't do as good a job as she thought...Suddenly, almost without warning, he appeared again. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him - he wasn't giving up on her! - and then, it began to race as she saw him more closely. His face was a thundercloud. The tie that she had so devilishly dunked had been removed, and his collar was open. His jacket was gone, and his cuffs rolled up. He looked like a man on a mission. One who had work to do. And, she feared, she was that mission. She stared at him silently, appearing aloof, but actually too afraid to say anything to him. Without a word, he walked to her table and came around to her side. His strong hand fastened onto her upper arm and hauled her up onto her feet.  
"Devon!", she protested, but he never heeded her. He simply handed her her purse, dropped a $10 bill onto the table to pay for her dinner, and started to march her out the door.  
"You don't have to pay! Tom Greene always takes care of his girls...oh!" she gasped as he gave her a little shake.  
"That doesn't apply to you!" he told her.  
"Why not?" she asked, her heart beating faster as they approached the door.  
"Because," he nearly growled, "you are not one of Tom Greene's girls! You are my girl, Miss Barstow, and don't you ever forget it!" With those words ringing in her ears, he whisked her outside and down the step to the sidewalk below. Bonnie ran alongside of him, trying to keep up and afraid she might trip. She needn't have bothered worrying. That large hand, now fastened onto the back of the neck of her blouse, made sure she stayed upright. She felt embarrassed to be dragged down the street like this, sort of like a little girl being taken home by an angry parent.  
"I can't just leave my job!" she protested.  
"You can and you will!" Devon declared with finality.  
"But, I'll get in trouble..." she began to complain.  
"Well, what do you think you're in now?" he asked her vehemently.  
She inhaled sharply, never stopping to think that she could be "in trouble" with Devon Miles. They were friends. He loved her! And if that were the case, what was this ridiculous exercise in futility all about? If the degree of his anger was any gauge of the depth of feeling he had for her, than any questions she might have had in that regard were now answered. Unfortunately, she still was going to have to face him and his anger, and there was no way out of that.  
To add to her chagrin, Tom Greene was at the car, putting her luggage and dirty clothes into the back of the convertible. He wore a terrible grin at her discomfiture. "Hey, little one," he said as he dropped the bags into the car, "I'm afraid you weren't quite telling me the truth about your home life. This man really loves you. You should listen to him."  
She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of that, but before she could say anything she was forcibly sat down in the front seat of the car, and the door was slammed shut. Devon turned, winked at Tom Greene, and got into the car. He started it up and took off. She noted the stained tie folded up between the two seats. He picked it up with his right hand and waved it at her a brief second before putting it into his pocket . "Don't you ever try something like that again!" he scolded her. She looked down at her hands in her lap, the lump in her throat becoming unbearable. She tried to say, "I'm sorry," but it caught in her throat. She remained silent. She didn't know what to say. Part of her was furious and indignant and wanted to rail at him. Another part was shy and humbled and wanted him to speak first. A small part of her felt relieved and even glad that he'd put his foot down and made her come home. And all of her was delighted to find out that he did care enough about her to at least come looking for her. He was, she knew, furious with her. She never remembered him being even upset with her before. She had no idea what Devon had in store for her once they got home, but she was beginning to be afraid of him for the first time in her life. 


	5. Greener Pastures, Chap 5

Chapter 5  
  
"What...," she began, then attempted to swallow down that horrible lump and tried again. "What are you planning to do?"  
"About what?" he asked coolly.  
"A...about...m...me," she gulped.  
"You'll find out when we get home. Until then, young lady, I advise you to sit quietly and say nothing."  
She decided to take his advice. All she could possibly do right now would be to make him a lot angrier, and that she didn't want to do. She had rarely seen Devon Miles angry, and the few times she had, she hadn't liked it. Distinctly, she remembered the time she watched him grab up a criminal and shake him, threatening him with physical harm. If memory served her correctly, and it did, he had said, "I am a man of considerable patience. But once that patience is exhausted it's replaced by a fury the likes of which you have never seen!". She had been there, and she believed it when he said it. Would he actually turn that fury on her? Shyly, she turned her head to study his profile. Swallowing, she turned her head back to look out her window. 'Stoney' was the word to describe it. His jaw was set, and his eyes were very focused. There was no doubt about it - she was in big trouble with him. She shivered, and it wasn't from the cool night air nor the brevity of her dress. Glancing down, she realized she was still in the black, scoop neck shirt, the little black skirt, and the tap pants that showed saucily underneath that was standard at the club. She pulled at the skirt a little, but realized it would do no good. Devon had already seen her in it...at least, she thought he had. If he hadn't, it wasn't going to make him any happier to see her in it once they got home. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Why was she always so stubborn? This time, it was going to cost her dearly, and she knew that for an absolute certainty. What was surprising her so much on this miserable trip home was to discover how much it mattered to her what Devon Miles thought. She'd written him off as a part of her past life. She'd decided she didn't care if she ever saw him again. She'd run away, he'd not driven her off, yet now all she wanted was to see a look of approval in his eyes. That, she knew, was a long way off, if she ever saw it again at all.  
By the time they had made the thirty minute trip home, she was a nervous wreck. He parked the car and got out. Before she could open her door, he was around and had opened it for her. Taking her arm in a vise grip, he led her inside and upstairs to her bedroom. She trotted along, keeping up, but her stomach was churning with apprehension. She knew she would lose the lobster she had gobbled up in front of him. He finally reached her room. With a single motion, he opened the door and propelled her inside. When he turned on the light and then let go of her arm, she actually breathed a sigh of relief. At last, she was home!  
But her escapade was far from over. He sat her down on her bed, then crossed to her vanity and picked up her chair. Bringing it over, he placed it a few feet in front of her and sat down on it. For a few seconds, they merely stared at one another. Finally, Devon said, "All right, Miss Barstow. I think I deserve an explanation for this outrageous behaviour of yours!"  
"I...I don't want to talk about it right now," she hedged.  
"But you will."  
"But, I don't..." she began, to be cut off by an angry broadside.  
"You will tell me, and be quick about it! I am fighting a powerful urge to put you across my knee and give you the paddling of your life! And if I'm not satisfied within a very short period of time with your explanation, I promise you, it will happen!"  
Bonnie gulped. Devon didn't make empty threats. He also didn't hit women. How could she reconcile those thoughts? She looked at his face and knew he was serious.  
"But...But, Devon," she whined, "You...you wouldn't do that to me..."  
"Nonsense. Any father who truly loved his daughter and treasured her safety would do it if she had displayed the degree of brinkmanship I've seen in you the last 48 hours. And I care at least as much about you as any father ever has any daughter!"  
Her heart soared with those words, but then she realized the implication of what he'd said.  
"But you couldn't hit a woman if your life depended on it."  
"I could if hers did," he replied softly.  
For the first time in this conversation, Bonnie blushed deeply. It embarrassed her to be promised a "paddling" as though she were five years old, but at the same time, the love and concern in his voice were obvious. Devon cared about what she did. That much, at least, she knew. She let out a huge sigh of relief. And then she gulped nervously.  
"All...all right. I'll...I'll tell you, but you're only going to get madder, and so am I."  
"I can handle it," he told her. She had no doubt that that was true.  
"You might not like the truth," she warned him.  
"I like not knowing it even less."  
"Well, for starters, Devon, I was...have been...I am very upset about the way you and Michael have been treating me lately."  
"And how is that?"  
"As if I didn't exist. As if all I am is a...a machine to put KITT back together. Whenever there is any kind of dispute between Michael and me, you always side with him."  
"I suppose this is leading back to the laser."  
"Yes!" Then she seemed to become angry. "Are you sure you want all of this?"  
"Every syllable," he insisted.  
"It may take a while."  
"I am prepared to sit here all night if need be. But I intend to hear this explanation. And I warn you, child, it had better be very good."  
"All right! Last week, I told you and Michael that I needed to take KITT back to the Foundation to install that laser. That's my job, Devon, to know what's best for KITT. I didn't get to do my job to the best of my ability, because as soon as Michael said 'no', you sided with him."  
"Sided with him? What sides are those, Bonnie? I thought we were on the same side."  
"Not when it comes to relationships!"  
"You're jealous," he said simply.  
"I am not!"  
"It certainly sounds like jealousy to me."  
"It's the principle of the thing, Devon! Even though you started out on my si...you started out backing my decision, you gave in to Michael to do it his way. Because of that, we lost the laser to KARR and endangered KITT even more!"  
"To be fair, in hindsight - where everyone has 20/20 vision - even Michael would agree that that was an unfortunate turn of events. It shouldn't have happened, but for a number of reasons, it did," Devon revealed.  
"If you had listened to me instead of Michael, it wouldn't have been possible."  
"Agreed."  
She was surprised by this, and pleasantly so. Spurred on by this unexpected agreement, she went on. "The next day, Michael called to tell me that he needed the shields to put on KITT. I wanted to explain to him the ramifications of trying it, but he didn't want to hear it. He didn't even try. As soon as I said, 'but, Michael...', he turned off the screen and went back to driving around. Devon, I deserve better than to be cut off in mid-sentence and not even listened to! If I could have at least expressed myself, I wouldn't have cared quite so much that Michael did what he wanted."  
"I agree again. I'll speak to him about it."  
"You will?" she asked, shocked at his words beyond belief.  
"Of course I will! Why wouldn't I? Don't you think I want you two to get along? Do you think I care more for Michaels's wishes than I do for yours?"  
Her silence was telling. She stared into her lap. She heard him inhale as he realized that he'd hit the nail on the head.  
"You are jealous!" he accused with a little more spirit than she would have wished at the moment, especially with his threat still hanging fairly heavily over her head.  
"I'm not!" she snapped. Then, off his look, she amended, "At least, I don't think I am! But...what am I to think when you agree with me at the house that I'm right, and then give in to him when he shows up with his, 'if we ever needed to pull together as a team' speech? Talk about grandstanding! You and I work together to keep KITT in good enough shape that Michael can use him to do his job! But if you want to discuss brinkmanship, let's talk about Michael going out to do battle with KARR armed only with a set of reflective shields tacked onto the windows! But do you threaten him with bodily harm? No! If anything, your respect for him increases! I have every idea shot down, and I get threatened besides."  
"In this case, my dear, I'm afraid it is more of a promise to you than a threat. And...Michael had a point."  
"He wrapped you around his finger!" she cried in protest.  
"He was right, Bonnie. That was why I gave in," he reminded her. "And, my girl, he didn't have me wrapped around his finger." With a gentle touch to her chin, he said, "That's your job."  
She blushed again at his compliment. He hadn't been this attentive in a long time, and she had sorely missed it. It was almost worth being in trouble just to have this much one-on-one with Devon.  
"Well, maybe. But do you realize that after Michael and I argued about the shields, you gave in to an ultimatum of his, and he doesn't even own KITT? I was shocked. I wound up putting on those shields in three minute, hurt and rejected, alone in the semi while you two went into the back and talked! I've never felt so...dejected in my life! All you did was look at me, in front of him, and say, 'Go to work. Then you walked off, with him, leaving me to do it. How demeaning was that?"  
"I'm very sorry if I seemed dismissive, child. I never want to do that to you. But, Bonnie, I was a trifle upset myself, because I was afraid that I had just signed his death warrant." He paused. "I realize that what you did by running away was to get back at me for a perceived injustice. But I'm not the villain in this piece. If you think about it, you'll realize that there is no villain. Only hurt feelings and one overly tired and highly stressed young girl." He paused again. "You must know that I care about you, and I respect your work enormously."  
She began to feel ashamed for her venting at him like she had.  
She gulped again. "I'm sorry, Devon. I don't mean to be disrespectful..."  
"It isn't disrespectful to have strong feelings. But it is insubordinate to run off like a child in a tirrivee!" he said, resorting to the the Scottish word for "tantrum" his grandmother used to use. His eyes narrowed. "And to tamper with Foundation equipment."  
"What are you talking about?" she snapped.  
"KITT."  
Her eyes widened as she realized he had discovered what she'd done. She hung her head, for the first time looking guilty. It made Devon feel good to see that her conscience was still in tact. She merely let out a small, "Oh."  
" 'Oh', indeed!" he said. "I've had Dr. VonVoorman working on KITT ever since you left."  
"But, Devon, I only did it to protect myself! I didn't want you to find me, and I knew you'd use KITT to track me down if I didn't."  
"Why on earth wouldn't you want me to find you? I thought all of this was some perverse game you cooked up to see how long it would take me!"  
She looked at him, shocked. "You think I'd go through all of this for a game?" she cried. Then, the anger and resentment came pouring out of her, and Devon got the "earful" he knew would be coming in all of this. "I didn't want you to find me and track me down so you could fire me! I didn't want to give you the satisfaction!"  
Devon looked very confused. "What are you talking about? Why would I fire you?"  
"It's all about that stupid, stupid laser! I wish I'd never even designed it! After getting Michael nearly killed, and then losing it to provide a special weapon for KARR, and being an obvious dissappointment to you..."  
"Bonnie, what are you talking about?" he repeated. "What makes you think I'm going to fire you? How do you think I'm disappointed in your work?"  
"Don't act so innocent, Devon Miles! I heard you with my own ears! According to you, I don't do the job I used to, and it isn't worth trying to get me help! It's..cheaper to let me go!! That's why I left - I wanted to be the one to go first! At least I'd leave with my dignity. And now...now if you decide to...to spank me," she gulped nervously, "I won't even have that!" And that being said, she further shocked him by bursting into tears.  
Her last sentence had made him smile a little. She sounded so much like a little girl. Then, when she began to cry, he sat, staring at her for a moment. She obviously believed every word she had just said. He had only seen her cry once before, and never anything like the near hysterics he was witnessing at the moment. It was the first thing she'd done or said in all of this that he felt precluded his beating her soundly for what she'd put him through. It was apparent that she, too, had been going through some pain. He needed to get to the bottom of this.  
"When? When did you hear me say that?" he asked.  
"Th...the m...morn-ing...I...l...left!" she stammered through her tears. Turning away from him, she buried her face in her pillow and sobbed. After just a few seconds, he stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "Bonnie, stop it," he told her. She only cried harder. He sat next to her and pulled her up so he could hold her. She put her head on his shoulder and bawled into his shirt. He merely held her, rubbing her back a little and making "shushing" noises. Finally she calmed enough that he could talk to her. "Now, what makes you think I was talking about you?"  
"You...you said...it hap-pened after the...(gulp)...the attack in the sem...semi! You had to be t...talk-ing about...me! We w...were the only two peo...people there!" she gulped out between sobs. The light dawned. He kissed the top of her head and asked quietly,  
"Now, you silly goose - why on earth would I fire you? And...how could anyone think that the attack by KARR could have affected your working ability? If I remember correctly - and I do- after that incident, you were the one who pulled up the picture of the perpetrator!"  
"That's what I want to know!" she sniffed.  
"The answer is, they couldn't. I wasn't talking about you!" She lifted her head to argue again, but he gently pushed it back down. "I had been talking to Michael, Bonnie," he informed her quietly, "about the watch I had been wearing the night of KARR's attack. You remember when he pushed forward toward me? I had on my grandfather's watch, and some of the boxes got pushed into the face of it. Since then, it simply hasn't worked well, and I was planning to get rid of her...er...it. But I didn't, and I won't. It means something to me. But not nearly as much as you do."  
She gulped down the last of her sob. "Your...your w...watch?" she asked, not believing that she could have misinterpreted so much. Aware that the lump in her throat had been washed away by her crying spell, she felt better able to talk about this now.  
"That's right. You overheard part of a conversation, and instead of coming to me like an adult and getting it taken care of right then, you jumped to conclusions, and put us through hell for 2 days! And even if I did fire you -which I won't- you had absolutely no business being anywhere near where I found you. There is no excuse for that! Did you take leave of your senses?" he lectured her. "What would possess a fine, intelligent girl like you to take a job so obviously beneath her?"  
"I g...guess I wasn't feeling...worth very much."  
"Well, by the time I'm through with you tonight, young lady, your self- esteem should take a 180 degree turn."  
She felt a tight knot in her stomach. He was going to beat her now. She knew it. Shivering violently in anticipation, she waited. He felt her tighten up all over.  
He totally shocked her by planting a very light kiss on her damp cheek. Then, he tipped her face up to look at him.  
"If you had been around a few moments before your tantrum began, you'd have heard that I was just decrying the fact that I had been neglecting you shamelessly, and that you and I don't spend enough time together anymore. It's been way too long since we've gone to the symphony, or to a play. And, my little rabbit, I had only moments before told Michael to enjoy himself in Acapulco..."  
"Ac...a...pulco?" she asked, confused.  
"I don't suppose it's dawned on you that Michael isn't here? That I had to deal with this on my own? Michael is on vacation - and a well- deserved one, I might add - and I wouldn't disturb him with this! So I had to find you all by myself. That may be one reason I am so angry with you. Instead of going all over creation hunting for the elusive Bonnie, I had planned for the two of us to be checking into the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego this afternoon!"  
"You...you wanted to go on vacation with me?"  
"Why not? Don't we do it every year? Aren't we about 2 months overdue? If this mess with KARR hadn't come up, we'd have been gone for sure." Then, he added, "I suppose, though, that since this little incident, you feel that you've had your change of pace."  
She was totally crestfallen. Her heart thumped at the idea of going off with Devon for a week, to have him all to herself. Knowing she had blown it hurt her more than anything he could possibly have done to her. She shook her head, as if ashamed, and smiled wanly.  
"I'm sorry, Devon. Really. I couldn't quit thinking about how dismissive you and Michael have been with me. I truly believed KITT was going to be destroyed by KARR. I felt you'd said to me, in effect, 'he's won this round, do what you're told'. It seemed to me you didn't care anything about my feelings. I just wanted to get as far from FLAG as I possibly could."  
Sternly, he told her, "Well, I guess you succeeded at that, at least!"  
"I truly am sorry I was such a..." she groped for a word, and ended with , "brat. You've been so nice and understanding, and I don't really deserve it."  
"What do you deserve, do you think?"  
"Well, I...I guess, if I were honest, I...deserve to be left home while you and Michael go off and enjoy yourselves."  
He tried to suppress a smile at her misery, but couldn't. Instead, he hugged he. "No, you don't. That's just your guilty conscience speaking. You deserve to be pampered and spoiled, and I intend to see to it that that happens. Otherwise, you might decide to leave us again, and that would break my heart."  
A few more large tears slid down her face, but they were quickly wiped away by Devon's white handkerchief. He then kissed her cheek and urged her not to cry anymore. After that, he got up and told her to be packed in the morning to leave for San Diego. Happily agreeing with that idea, she smiled at him. He realized that it was the first true smile she'd given him in two and a half days. He was determined that smile wouldn't go away again, at least not due to any neglect on his part to make her happy. He never wanted her to go looking for greener pastures again. 


End file.
